9 Years, 2 People, 1 Hope
by ScoreCounter
Summary: Life is strange. Good moments will forever roll with the bad. But hey, doesn't that make the good moments just all the better? [Rated T/12 for same reasons as games, Spoilers for all main series games incl. AA5, OC in latter chapters, Subliminal and overt male/male pairings, including Miles/Phoenix - R R Appreciated and Responded to]
1. Part 1: Prologue

**Notes: **Okay, this is my first attempt at writing something longer than… well, about 2,000 words so I suppose it's kind of [First time] onto the breach. Even if none of those lot read this, thanks to those people who reviewed/followed/liked my previous stuff- and please, if you're reading this, and I'm doing something wrong, tell me – rather know I've mucked this up, you know? (Not that I'm going to stop.) Anyway, onwards (with only one further delay)!

DISCLAIMER(S):

The characters and events in this story are solely property of Capcom, under the Ace Attorney series. I claim no ownership over any of the story.

Also, this is a work of fiction. Any Characters, Events or Places are in no way supposed to resemble real life, and any similarities are purely coincidental.

_**Part I:**_

_**Prior the Fall**_

_Prologue: Beyond Hazakura_

It's common knowledge that one particular Defence Attorney: To be precise, one Phoenix Wright was not oft paid for that occupation. So, when it was forcibly removed from him for 7 years, how did he survive; with a daughter, no less. Well, there was naturally one… evident method. Not that Wright chose it. But I am in digression. I think, in this case, I best start before the beginning… the end of the trial of Iris Hawthorne, and, to an extent, Maya Fey. Naturally, that trial paid its toll on everyone. Godot, or, as is now revealed, Diego Armando, was having his wounds treated, and, in a way, his psychological wounds were healing as well, Maya and Pearl were supporting each other, and Phoenix Wright…

Well, it was a bit of a strange case. He never expected to see him again, much less have him actually accept his request to cover Iris's defence. So, naturally, when discussing his next case with Edgeworth, he felt… compelled to bring the subject up.  
"Edgeworth… about that last case…" Edgeworth obviously tensed at the statement. Well, to be honest, I don't think Wright could have found a better starting point.  
"Wright, must you bring that up!" It was a rather angry snap, and was a clear and obvious sign – one that Wright had learned- that meant he did not at all want to be reminded of it right now. But, naturally, with Edgeworth, given a chance, he would just conveniently forget all the details; not that that ability was a complete detriment.  
Phoenix sighed. "I just want to know why you actually took my badge. You didn't have to, and we're forgetting how much you hate Defence Attorneys in the first place!" Edgeworth's fist promptly met the desk. But yet, it would be hard to say that he was angry.

"I… understand your concern Wright." His voice was… unstable to say the least. "But it was the least I could do, considering the circumstances."  
Naturally, the next question spoke for itself. "How long?" Wright's face was… sad. Naturally, Edgeworth was… baffled, to say the least.  
"Why do you care, Wright?" The only response he got was a pair of raised eyebrows. "I would say I need to go back to Germany but... I suppose I could stay awhile. The office has already forced my position back onto me, anyway."

The conversation actually continued quite smoothly. It was strange… there were no interruptions and neither… arguments. Eventually, Edgeworth had to ask.

"Are you defending him… Wright?" Phoenix simply nodded. Even though they knew he was in no way innocent, he wasn't exactly guilty either. The situation was rather… bizarre. Even though his victory was guaranteed, he took the case anyway. There were many reasons for Edgeworth taking the case. He was already involved, the fact he needed a slight break, and Wright. Edgeworth internally sighed. The most important reason for him taking a case… was Phoenix Wright_. Of course. That grinning, immature… well, I suppose that analogy should have disappeared last year. He was in no way immature then. I keep forgetting about Maya...  
_"Well to be fair, he hasn't accepted yet. I still have to ask." Edgeworth didn't have to look up to tell that he was doing that trademark of his; scratching his hair, whilst grinning like, in Franziska words, a fool. Nevertheless he did.

"Well then, Wright… do you want me to get you to the detention centre?" Phoenix almost jumped up with, to be frank, pleasant surprise. He nodded enthusiastically, with only one comeback.  
"Oh, and Edgeworth?"  
"What, Wright?"  
"It's called a Lift." And, at this point, I must admit… it's a good thing Edgeworth actually isn't British. (It gave both of them a chance to smile at each other.)

The absence of Godot's mask was… disconcerting, to say the least. Just seeing that long wound across his eyes brought a heavy shroud of silence amongst those present. Even without words, Phoenix's Magatama was going crazy within his pocket. The detention centre was pitch black, and in his ears, there was a continuous metal clanging, smashing, shimmering.  
"Just let me leave for a moment… Edgeworth." Edgeworth opened his mouth to respond, but quickly resealed it once the item was presented. Just to make it very clear, Wright tapped his head. He knew what the… thing sounded like; _to hear it continuously must be hellish. In fact, those sounds must have been-_

All of a sudden, silence well and truly filled the cell. The clanging that both of them were hearing had stopped, and Edgeworth felt ready to get started.  
"Mister Armando… you know why he's here. So?" He simply responded- with silence. "Do you actually want to face life imprisonment? I am not an expert on human emotions, but I am sure at the very least Miss Fey wants to see you again." The mere mention of Maya brought a tear to the usually stoic man's eye. Of course, Edgeworth had got to a point where he shows his emotions quite frequently.

Just as Edgeworth pondered this fact, Wright re-entered, much more determined than before. He didn't slow for a second; he just sat down, and tensed himself up. Edgeworth, in some distant faction of his mind may have been slightly scared of the man. Shoulders raised, leaning over the desk, on which he rested his elbows, and interlocked his fingers in front of his face. He raised his head over said hands when he wanted to speak; in one sense, he was ever so slightly more professional than Edgeworth. Only when interviewing witnesses though.  
"Let me defend you." He would have tried to use a name, but after that trial, names were… a sticky topic.  
"Ha! Trite- Why are you, the person who I technically, truly wronged asking to come to my defence- especially when I killed the most important person in Ki-… Miss Fey's life?"

All of a sudden, a new voice protruded through the darkness. "Why do you think?"  
Diego seized up. Wright signalled to Edgeworth- it was time to leave. As the two men left, Wright spoke to Mia.  
"Thanks Mia."  
"Anytime… Nick."


	2. Part 1: Chapter One

_Notes: Well, no reviews- none the less, thanks to one `tezmilion` for the follow on this thing- and to all the others of you whom did read this- again, tell me what I'm doing right- or wrong. I'm cool with that. Ack, I'm rambling. Let the curtains rise..._

_**Part I:**_

_**Prior the Fall**_

_Chapter One: Staying Awhile_

"This court finds the defendant, Diego Armando, on the charge or murder,

-NOT GUILTY-

However, this court also finds the same defendant, Diego Armando, on the charge of murder in the protection of another, in simpler terms, in the second degree,

-GUILTY-

Although procedure usually stipulates a sentencing trial within a month, in these exempting circumstances, the defendants sentencing will take place within the day. Court Is Adjourned!"

Edgeworth found it… oddly pleasant to both win and lose simultaneously… on two fronts. Firstly, he had both won and lost the trial of Diego Armando, meaning he will face long-term imprisonment- which was ideal in every way. Additionally, he had lost his fight to return to Germany- meaning that he could no longer further his legal education. On the other hand, he was victorious in securing his position as High Prosecutor, despite the problem with his temporary career change. And he had also won the ability to stay with people he actually knew and respected, and who respected him, beyond simply the demon prosecutor.

Especially Wright, he made note of.

Speaking of Phoenix, he couldn't be happier with the verdict. He, Maya and Godot were all ecstatic- pardon me, He, **Mia** and Godot, although Maya would have been more than happy. They all bounded out of the courtroom- As much as you could in a court of law anyways. Godot, naturally, was taken away by the courtroom officers instantly. A prosecutor getting convicted is slightly sticky business, so they wanted the case over and done with. Naturally, the sentencing went straight after the initial trial. Additionally, there was an awful lot of festivity in the defence lobby.

Maya was passed out on the sofa after channelling Mia for such a prolonged period of time, and Phoenix was waiting to give her the good news. It was at this point that one particular prosecutor strode into the room. Wright immediately sprung up, and ran towards him. At one point it looked like he was about to hug the prosecutor.

And the next moment- he inadvertently did.

Luckily for the both of them, he immediately let go, before it got- awkward; in the sense of professionalism, naturally. Neither of them had the other type- although they both doubted the other when it comes to this subject. Nevertheless, they both laughed.  
"Sorry about that, Edgeworth!" Wright coughed between laughs. "And thank you!"  
Edgeworth quickly recollected himself. "Well, according to you, Wright, it was nothing."  
"What do you mean by that?" Wright half-stuttered, half mumbled. "In comparison to forcing you into the world's worst job?"

Edgeworth rolled his eyes. "Wright, I actually found the experience quite… interesting, to say the least. That, and Franziska no longer feels compelled to remind me of her superiority every 10 minutes." Wright resumed his laughter after that comment. "And speaking of Franziska..." Wright's face fell. Naturally, if it were anyone else, they would take the opportunity to play a joke on Wright.

Edgeworth expected the opportunity. He had a ticket to America left over from a previous trip… the person who bought the ticket (who, for a change, was not himself) had no qualms with him missing said flight. So, he simply held up said ticket in front of Wright.

"When?" The ticket was held out further. Wright took it. "April the Twenty Eighth…" He looked almost dejected. "Are you coming back?"  
"I already did."  
"Hmm?" All of a sudden, his voice rose to a shout. "2017! Edgeworth you absolute…!"  
Edgeworth used his trademark head tap/smirk gesture. "I will be staying Wright- for now anyway." The strangest thing was, Phoenix observed, was that there was not a hint of sadness or disappointment in his voice. And in addition:  
"You're telling me this? Who else knows?"  
"Only the office; and Franziska- I thought you would want to know, Wright.  
"I thought you didn't care."  
Edgeworth looked almost offended. "I do care about other human beings, or did you fail to notice I ran over here at the drop of a hat, even if … Larry was being over-dramatic."\  
"He does that a lot. You should have seen him with his last girlfriend."  
"Well, I do think it was more about you than him, Wright."

And with this statement- Phoenix actually did kind of… hug Edgeworth.  
Not romantically, just in that small, subtle way that friends often do so. And the nice thing about the scenario was… even if it felt like it took years… Edgeworth hugged back.

And even though Maya regained consciousness at this point – she saw that. It wasn't awkward, it wasn't sickening, it was simply natural. And thusly, she didn't interrupt.

It didn't last two long; apologies for overly accurate guesses, but I would say it would last no longer than 24 and a half seconds. When it stopped, they both looked over at the seat in the lobby to find Maya smiling quite… actually, for once, there was nothing hidden in that smile.

"I take it that the trial went well, eh Nick?"  
"Yes, Maya. Yes it did. Even Edgeworth seems to think so!"  
"I said nothing of the sort, Wright."

It's in situations like this that friendships are made, not forged. The situation was nowhere near the heat it needed to be; as they say, "Great men are forged in flame." Those flames would take a short while to light. There would come a time where trust would become hard to find for Phoenix Wright- Then again, you already knew that. It's why you're here. There would come a time where no one would trust Wright, except for a chosen few. The seasons of life don't come in any regularity- for Phoenix; there was a year until the winter.

_A.N- Alternative timeline is different. Different is shiny. Shiny is good._


	3. Part 1: Chapter Two

_**Part I:**_

_**Prior the Fall**_

_Chapter Two: Red and Blue_

"I still don't know why you're here Wright." His face was set in stone, as per usual. Why he was in his office on a whim. Fortunately, he actually didn't have any work for a change, and he found that trick with the plane ticket… amusing, to say the least. And going by Wright's vacant expression, he had no real answer to that question. "Wright, you know how much I dislike being interrupted during work." Of course, Wright felt no trigger on his Magatama- he wasn't actually lying, nor was he hiding the fact he had no work.

"Well, what if I actually like interrupting you during your work?"

"Well, in that case," Edgeworth smirked as he continued, "you've failed. Did I say I was busy?" Meeting that British prosecutor during his travels was defiantly helpful. The art of inference was a special skill indeed. Especially so on a higher level. Wright was quite shocked and embarrassed by that statement, it appeared. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I just wanted to talk about the… story behind that chessboard. It's kind of interested me every time I come in here." In actuality, he just wanted to find a random subject to talk about- though the chessboard had interested him for a while. After pausing for thought for a while, Edgeworth told him the story- it would entertain him for a time.

_That chessboard and chess set has changed many times throughout the years. You can imagine that my mentor didn't approve of chess- put simply; chess is a game where it is impossible to play perfectly. No matter which strategy you employ, there is another strategy that can beat yours. Even professionals have been known to fools mate- checkmating in two of their moves. So, naturally, it was a game that he discouraged. However, it was a game that I was always fascinated with. Yes, it is a game about the impossibility of perfection. However, it was also about the strife to be as perfect as possible; about exploiting the imperfections of others. When I was introduced to the game by a friend of mine, I was quite heavily enraptured by it. It was by that student in our class, Wright; the silent one who insisted he sat fourth left on the second row._

_So, I ordered that chess set to be made near my eighteenth birthday, being able to loan boards from other fellow players until that point. It was very different then- it was not a standard chess set, but it wasn't as it is now. Although I can guess you'd guess that. I hadn't forgotten about you, but I wasn't aware of you as much as I was. The board was slightly darker. It wasn't really the colours black and white, as it is now. That change came after the Terry Fawles Trial. That trial had an effect on everyone involved. Prior to you, it was the one question mark on my record. I had the white pieces painted red, and the black pieces remained the colour of your mentor, Mia Fey. And, upon my first victory, I thought it would be apt for the colours to match those of the courtroom. So, I had the board lightened._

_Obviously, at one point, I moved up to this office here. That's when I got that table as a sort of office warming present. I found it to be perfectly suited to the chessboard, so I had the board set into the table. I made other, minor alterations throughout the years, slight reshaping here, and minor recoloring there. Then came our first trial against each other, each day, I moved the pieces into wildly and radically different positions. Eventually, on the end of the third day, I ran in and locked the office door- I was afraid of what my mentor might do or say to me. I entertained all sorts of idiotic ideas. Eventually, I swept my arm across the chessboard. Thankfully, none of the pieces were overly damaged. Nevertheless, I swore that day I would never lose again. So, I forged your form, and made it, in a way, the symbol of my hatred of defence attorneys. When I was sure that no-one would see, I rearranged the board. Into all sorts of positions- most biased. Eventually, that day came. I chose death. _

_When I came back, I made some final alterations. I had the board recolored into solid black and white; the true colours of justice, in a sense. I actually came back one day during the Engarde trial; I found it quite amusing to find the blue side in a fools mate position: naturally, Franziska making her opinion known. However you see it, I never changed the board since. _

Silence hung around the room, both of the men pondering the yarn that Edgeworth had just spun. Wright found it… fascinating, what a profound effect that himself and his mentor, had on Edgeworth.

"Do you regret any of it? Edgeworth?" Phoenix's voice was timid, and quiet, and careful not to annoy Edgeworth, who obviously looked tired from the story.

"I suppose, in the end of the day… I have no regrets. A man is a sum of his memories, and-"

Wright cut him off. "You don't need to say anything else. I feel honoured enough that you actually told me that story."

It was at that time that Mother Nature decided to intervene- in the worst possible manner.

An earthquake, of fairly rough magnitude. Edgeworth's eyeballs immediately rolled upwards, and Wright reacted instantly and moved forwards to catch him. He went down rather low, but he didn't quite, "Hit the deck." It seems to be all the time that this sort of thing happens. Wright immediately moved Edgeworth over to the sofa, and seated them both down. Slowly, even though the earthquake was still in full swing, Edgeworth regained consciousness. When regaining consciousness, the mind acts on default. Nevertheless- Wright found it strange how Edgeworth clamped one arm around the (sofa/settee/couch), and the other around Wright's arm. Not that he retracted said arm (even if he wanted to, he might struggle).

Slowly, the earthquake subsided. However, before it did, Edgeworth saw a black chess piece, with a cravat and cane, and long pale hair, fall to the ground- and shatter. Slowly, but surely, he released Wright's arm. He… seemed quite embarrassed to be caught in that kind of moment. But then again, Wright wouldn't mind. He wouldn't laugh. He knew the what, and the why- not to mention he had seen it before.

"I think I should thank you… Wright."

"Anytime, Edgeworth."

**Notes: Apparently chapter 1-3 onwards is `later`. Make of that what you will.**


	4. Part 1: Chapter Three

_**Part I:**_

_**Prior the fall**_

_Chapter Three: On the Firing Range_

"Would you call that an Eight?" The DI just looked at him, slightly bemused.

"For the fifteenth time, why are you using a crossbow, on a rifle firing range?!"

"Because someone was just murdered by this very crossbow, and the fibre tension is all wrong, can't you see that!? Now, is that an eight or a seven?"

He just pulled a face. "A high seven; by my eyes, anyways." He was a bit of a mad pot- what other type of person would have cobalt hair at work, that changes its shape every week or so (thankfully, it was in its conservative spikes for now), wear a massive black cape on a regular basis (especially in court) and wear a mood watch, forward facing on his right wrist. "Holmes…"

A scowl immediately crossed the young man's face. "Must I continually remind you to call me by my first name? I am nothing like my potential ancestor."

"Sorry. Joshua. I was just wondering- how goes your career elsewhere?" Joshua Holmes, as he was evidently called, stood up, and slowly paced out of the room.  
"He couldn't have fired that crossbow into the heart. Even a professional would struggle, in those conditions, and this string. Arrest his sister, would ya? And my career is going fine- thank you."

_My name is Joshua Holmes, but please, call me Joshua- second name brings up some bad blood, really. I'm a prosecuting attorney, currently stationed in England. Due to my name, however, I have to keep hopping over to Germany and god knows where else. And yes, I have the most absurd hair colour- and dress sense- but I like it, so… I can be casual._

**1 week later:**

His phone started buzzing within his pocket. "Joshua." He uttered, as he flipped it open.

"Must you insist on your first name?!"

"Ah, Mister Edgeworth! Thanks for your assistance on that last one, I must say." Edgeworth had filled in a few of the smaller gaps in his last case, which helped him out immensely in ensuring a guilty verdict - for the correct person, naturally.

"Now, what's the problem?"

"What do you mean, 'What's the problem'? Just because I'm calling you doesn't mean I need help!"

"Edgeworth, yes it does. When you ring me, there is something wrong, since you aren't for informalities. In all fairness, I'm not a great fan either."

"Well, the thing is, a certain person is… concerning me." Joshua sharply inhaled; then spluttered, and started… laughing? "What's so funny Holmes?!" The laughter ceased.

"Second names are not appreciated Edgeworth- especially when they are such as mine. Now, since I have been observing your actions during my spare time, something I am getting more and more of, I assume you are on about one Phoenix Wright. Is that accurate enough?"

"That is so. He- seems to be desperate to… interact with me more."

Joshua had to stop himself from laughing again. "Why are you scared of social interaction with others… Miles?" At this point, he heard the sound of fist against wood. "I rest my case."

"I never took the opportunity- you know as well as I do the fear of the unknown."

"Yes- but you fail to grasp my love of fear. Jumping into the darkness, come what may, hope for the best; it's quite relieving. So go for it, Edgeworth." At this point, a note reached the younger prosecutor's desk. "…Damn. Well, I'd love to keep on the line, and shoot the breeze, but seems like a trial I set up last week is getting called in. I'm actually quite thankful for your system getting moved here, you know- much less paperwork. Talk another time, Edgeworth."

"Indeed… Joshua Holmes." Joshua could hear the smug smirk down the line.

"… At least you used my first name. I'm out." With that, he flicked the phone shut. He looked in the mirror. His hair had reshaped again, into its extended length, where he simply let it roll behind his neck. It was cliché, but simple; and cool. And his long "cape" (though he insisted it was more like an extruded overcoat), was on its peg in the corner. _(And that's something I cannot be seen without.)_

He would never get used to the English court. Unlike the other courtrooms of the world, they had remained consistent, even after the introduction of the Initial Trial System. Therefore, the defence and prosecution were still side by side, which was awkward when trying not to hit your opponent with a conveniently placed murder weapon.

It also meant that finger-pointing your opponent was difficult. For that reason, he often snapped his fingers prior to desk slamming.

"Objection!" His variation on the word was- strange. His accent a massive medley of all the places he had lived, although predominantly British; rather… implacable, and slightly gleeful at times. "I feel like I should make this courtroom aware of a certain fact. This crossbow… is broken."

"Objection! I'm sorry Mister Holmes, but as you can quite clearly see, on the Court record, it functions as expected."

"Objection! Maybe you'd fare well to, firstly, address me as 'Joshua', thank you. Secondly, patience is a virtue. Because any self-produced evidence could be biased, I called in a professional crossbow firer. I submit this recording to the court." With an aura of self-satisfaction, he punched the play button. A clip played on the screen of said professional firing, the arrow landing too low.

Once again, the DA assigned to the victim's sister looked smug. "And this proves anything? The arrow aim could simply be adjusted upwards!"

"Quiet!" Joshua's voice resounded through the courtroom. If his objections were cold, when he shouted for some peace, his voice bit into whoever it was directed to. "Patience – is – a – virtue! If you'll continue watching the clip, you'll see, that if he adjusts it to hit the centre, and we add the wind conditions to the mix;"… The arrow fell far to the side of the centre. "The arrow falls to the sides, and," as he rose his voice, worried of further pointless protestations, "If we readjust, we come to my true objection. In the hands of a professional, the arrow could pierce the heart. If, that is, our dear witness didn't state that this crossbow was pointed- what was it? 'Directly towards the victim?' The courtroom slowly flickered into murmurs of shock.

He started to pace the front section of the courtroom. "Your Honour, my case is as thus:

The motive: to remove the one final beneficiary of the will of the defendant's father- if the victim were still alive, he would receive the majority of the estate.

The Means: The crossbow, which was fired from point-blank, explaining the normal sinking of the arrow despite the weakened cross bow, which was loaded with the normal arrow, as opposed to the full foam ones used by the victim and his friend.

The Opportunity: When the mutual friend of defendant and victim went to order some food for the group. Does the defence object at all?" Silence hung over the room. "Good. Your Honour?"

"Naturally, Prosecutor Holmes. I find the Defendant,

GUILTY"

_**Right, I must insist- what do you think of young sir Holmes? Please, just a couple words, preferably public but… oh well.**_


	5. Part 1: Chapter Four

_**Part I:**_

_**Prior the Fall**_

_Chapter Four: One Day More_

"I'm worried, Edgeworth. This whole trial has a feeling of... wrong, I suppose, surrounding it. Especially that look that Defence Attorney Gavin keeps shooting me."

"Wright, when has a trial ever gone badly for you? It's rather irritable when you consider it."

"Do you want me to answer that question- the De Killer trial?" A trial that both tried to forget.

"But you're not against me; you're against a greenhorn prosecutor who's on his first trial!"

"Yes- he's a greenhorn who chose a case against his own brother, and then doesn't flinch when I, the 'Turnabout King' Phoenix Wright- not that I like that name, take the case!"

Wright was quite clearly agitated. Why, however, was beyond Edgeworth. Nothing should go wrong. Maya hadn't been kidnapped, there were no death threats anywhere, and all in all, not much could go wrong. "I'm sure you're worrying about nothing at all Wright. Anyway, whatever happens, you know I'll help. It would be nothing."

"What do you mean by `nothing`, Edgeworth?"

"You've saved my life about three times, Phoenix Wright. And, much to my disdain, I know I'd do similarly for you. So, it's nothing at all." _Naturally, even though it's been a year, he still thinks that I don't care. I really must try harder, if that's the case. _

"I know I'm probably chasing shadows. But that doesn't matter. I still am thankful for everything you say, Edgeworth."

"I'll just take what you said. Anytime, Wright." The pair of them started laughing. "Actually, now that I think about it, it's been a year since that trial in Hazakura. Maybe now would be the time for a trial to be more testing." Edgeworth, naturally, decided it would be a good idea to improve the worst case scenario. If only he knew what said scenario actually was…

"Maybe it is the time for something new. I think my case is as watertight as it usually is anyway."

"Well perhaps that's why you're worrying Wright. Your cases are never that well prepared."

"It's got me by. Now that I think about it, I've only ever lost to you Edgeworth." Not that that last comment couldn't be proven false, or made false very soon.

"Yes. I believe that's true. So, for now, let's not panic too much. In case you couldn't tell, you're panicking me, Wright." To be fair, that wasn't completely true. Edgeworth had… noticed certain things about the trial that made him uneasy as well.

_Remember, Wright; I had my damning trial almost instantly- twice- no, thrice in a row. First, I had a planned trial where I was to replace the acting prosecutor. Said prosecutor and the defendant were then found dead in the lobby, on top of each other. I spent the rest of the day running around, having to defend that oaf of a detective, and, to be frank, childcare. _

_Then I had the Fawles trial. I already told you about that, didn't I. And then, in came the allegations of forged evidence. SL-9. I unknowingly presented forged evidence. If the evidence wasn't legitimate, how do we know that Joe Darke was guilty?_

Edgeworth didn't know, at the time, just how appropriate that story was. How tragic coincidence can be. "Well, at the very least, I have at least…" Wright started giggling.

"Wright, what strange thing have you thought up now. You have what?"

"A song, I suppose, Edgeworth. `One Day More`." Even though there was not going to be running away, revolutions, or anything along those lines, the song was strangely appropriate in this situation, both him and Edgeworth found. "All the same, I hope it doesn't come to that, I mean, I get paid peanuts as it is. Quite literally, in one recent case." Wright obviously de-stressed a little. Nonetheless, the- quite rightful- agitation remained. "Thanks for calming me down, Edgeworth."

"I suppose I should say you're welcome Wright."

Wright stood up and walked towards the door. "I'll just ensure my case is watertight then. See ya, Edgeworth!"

Edgeworth had sat there for a few minutes, when he realised something. He picked up the phone on his desk, and punched in the number. It rang out for a few moments. Then, it was picked up. "Prosecutor Holmes." The voice said. Immediately, Edgeworth could tell there was something wrong. 'Joshua' rarely used his second name, for some reason.

"I must ask what's wrong, Joshua." An uncharacteristic sigh came down the line.

"Gossip magazines, press… they're onto me again. Just once, I'd love to stay in a country for a couple of years, at least. Thanks for the first name though, I appreciate it, Edgeworth. But that's enough about me. What did you call me for?" His voice immediately brightened slightly.

"Well, I just thought I'd thank you for a couple of things- sounds like what you need."

"I am honoured. To have the great Prosecutor Edgeworth thank me for something…"

"Don't get too enthusiastic. Firstly, I'd like to thank you about that hint on that case two months ago. Secondly is about that… advice you offered me."

"So you're thanking me for social advice? Well, thanks. That's really got me going. The heat's died down in Germany, so I'm arranging a transfer there."

"Well, I hope you transfer well. And I can still trust you to cover me if things go wrong, right?"

"Of course Edgeworth; nonetheless, I'm out!"

He hoped that cover wasn't needed. But fate is strange, isn't it?


	6. Part 1: Endgame

_**Part I:**_

_**Prior the Fall**_

_Endgame: The Falling_

State vs. Gramarye- the technical case of the century. For the next seven years, it would be taught as the one time that Phoenix Wright got, "cocky". For some unbeknownst reason, the man acted kind of- aggressively during the trial. Some guess that he was simply trying to avoid the plain "wrongness" of the trial by just ignoring danger. Ironic, that this attitude made him fail the background check on that evidence. That attitude condemned him.

"This hearing has come to its conclusion. I must now ask you all to give your verdict. Is Defence Attorney, Phoenix Wright, Guilty, or Not Guilty of requesting forged evidence?"

The votes were handed in. The head of the hearing read the jurors' names out, one by one. "Guilty." "Guilty." Once he was halfway down the list, there came the odd verdict. "Kristoph Gavin: Not Guilty." Wright daren't raise his head, but he knew that that was strange, if you thought about it. But he didn't have time to think. "Considering all of the votes, there are 24 votes asking for a `Guilty` verdict. Because of this, I am forced to order your immediate disbarment. For the time being, Phoenix Wright, Defence Attorney registered under the number 26381, you are banned from practicing law. In addition, you are not allowed to retake the bar for ten years from today's date. This hearing is now dismissed."

There was no gavel. There was large clatter, no real sign that the verdict had been given, except for the words spoken by the head of the board. Phoenix immediately headed back to the office. Not that it was an office anymore. No-one worked for it. Maya no longer wanted, nor was allowed by the elders to visit. No-one wanted anything to do with him since that trial. Phoenix's head started spinning. He just lay there, in the darkness, wondering what he wanted to do about it.

Edgeworth sat in his office, slowly writing up the reports for his recent cases. Why did that happen? They both saw that something was wrong. He was in that position where he had no idea what to do. Did he forge evidence? No, he best not entertain that thought. _He couldn't forge evidence. He would have learned from my own `mistakes`. _Naturally, Edgeworth used his authority to watch the live recording of the hearing. The evidence was strange- neither conclusive, nor fallible. And the strangest thing was Kristoph Gavin's choice of verdict. What reason did he have to choose not guilty? When he asked the man about it, he simply responded that "[He felt] that the evidence against Mister Wright was not enough for [him]."

Wright remained silent within the office. Why was he punished like this? It wasn't even a mistake, it was an oversight- he had never done anything wrong, he had followed the laws, the rules perfectly. What bad Karma did he bring across himself to deserve this? So many questions, so few answers. For now, he simply slept. He let himself drift away into nothingness…

It was nearing the end of the day. All those tiresome reports were finally done, so he started packing up ready to go and rest- and think about what to do about Wright. Certainly, he would do those events- but not necessarily in that order. For it was at that moment, he got a strange text on his mobile; from Phoenix Wright. "Too bad I'll die with no-one trusting me." Edgeworth's heart immediately sank. With Wright, if he committed suicide, there would be no restoration- he would die, and remain dead. He ran to the stairs, and ran down the stairs, three, four at a time. He hoped that, whatever were to happen, he wouldn't be too late.

He probably would have incurred multiple speeding fines- being a member of law enforcement definitely had its benefits. He had kept trying to call Wright- he just kept getting told the line wasn't available. Did he seriously think no-one trusted him? That Wright thought that Maya or even Edgeworth himself wanted nothing to do with him?

He kept telling himself that he would make it in time- an ironic statement, all things considered. Edgeworth burst through the door, and flipped on a switch. Wright was lying on a sofa in the room. Had he actually gone through with it? He ran over and shook Wright's shoulders. "Wake up! Damn you Wright!" Edgeworth screamed at the man before him.

"Edgeworth? Why are you here?" Wright groggily responded. "Did I do anything else wrong?"

"You know full well, Wright! What have you done to yourself?" Edgeworth gripped on Wright as if he would suddenly disappear. However, all he got to his question was the most confused face…

"What makes you think I'd self-harm?" Edgeworth immediately waved the man's phone at him.

"You sent that text, Wright!" Phoenix's face grew even more confused. Edgeworth, after tapping the ex-attorney's pocket, grew deathly pale.

"Wright, search everything! Look for anything out of place!" Wright slowly got up. He had no idea what was going on, but he saw that Edgeworth was in no mood to be entered into an argument right now. All of a sudden, though, Edgeworth stopped. He calmed visibly. "Sorry about that Wright. I must leave if you don't mind." Before the man left, Phoenix saw he was gripping something in his palm.

A few days later, Edgeworth got this note:

Analysis of object:

Object was a size Level Six Explosive, potential to cover 7 cubic meters, as such, Class 8 power.

Defused with approximately twenty-one seconds remaining - activated through flameless-gunpowder ignition.

"Wright. I think you should come over to my office. I have something you might want to see."

It was a strange note, but he obliged anyway. _It might explain the panic last week, _he thought to himself.

The two men stared at each other. What reason would someone want to kill Wright, and in addition, make it look like a suicide? And how did that explosive even get into the office? To find answers is one thing. To know which one is right is another matter entirely. How could they answer the questions correctly, and prove it? That was the true question that ran over their heads.

_**PART I: PRIOR THE FALL  
**__"Pride always comes first, questions always Follow Beyond"_

_**END**_


	7. Part 2: Prologue

DISCLAIMER(S):

The characters and events in this story, excluding Joshua Holmes, are solely the property of Capcom, under the Ace Attorney series. I claim no ownership over any of the story.

Also, this is a work of fiction. Any Characters, Events or Places are in no way supposed to resemble real life, and any similarities are purely coincidental. 

_**Part II:**_

_**Going Dark**_

_Prologue: Hidden Truth_

**What has just happened? What are these events that have been laid out before me? Why has it all happened? Why was Wright given falsified evidence? How did the prosecution know that he was going to get given it? Why did Wright not check the evidence first? What was the truth behind that trial?**

**Why was that attempt made on his life? Why did they want me to think it was suicide? Why go as far as to plant a bomb, of all things? Why did they set the fuse so long? Who caused this event to fall into place? And finally, and most importantly:**

**What is the meaning behind all these events?**

**What… is the truth?**

"So many questions…" Edgeworth was in his office, trying to work out what had just happened.

"I know Edgeworth." Phoenix was in the room all this time? Edgeworth was so encompassed in all of his thoughts that he simply hadn't noticed. And I suppose, there was the final question. What to do about it?

"I'm sorry Wright. Were you talking to me?" Phoenix shook his head. "Apologies, Wright. I swear I'll help you get to the bottom of this."

"Is this part of this whole truth thing you've been on about?" Edgeworth was surprised he was half right. Sure, it was also because it was him, but that part should be put aside now. There were plans to put in place.

"I suppose it is Wright. Anyway, apologies but I have work to do." Phoenix looked dejected. Downtrodden, he slowly left the room.

Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth,

I hope this finds you well.

I just received your fax a few minutes ago. I can see your predicament. Unfortunately, for the sake of security, I can't send what I'm hoping to send you either through this fax, or through the conventional mail. I have personally had a box delivered to my temporary American residence, even if it was not entirely through conventional means. Go to the address specified on the card to follow this fax. I included a multitude of things that should give you a few options. And remember- It's on me Edgeworth. In addition, please don't take Wright with you. If someone is plotting to kill him, best keep it as a clean cut.

In anticipation of a reply, in any way, shape or form,

Prosecutor Joshua Holmes

(_This is the address I was sent to… but- how the heck do I get in?) _

He was close to thinking that aloud. He removed the card from his pocket to check. It was sent through the business card printer… Why did he do that, and not simply print it from the fax? Given the cryptic fax, he wanted to get to the building as fast as possible. "It's just a simple…" he flipped it over, and stopped. Written on the other side of the card, was a circle, and a `press here`. Why Edgeworth bothered with following the instructions was unbeknownst to him, but, as he did so, half of the card fell away; leaving a solitary, key like piece of card. Edgeworth smirked. _Naturally. He had used the embossment to make a perforation in the card- allowing the key to be pushed out. That explains the fax. _Not willing to dwell on these facts for any longer, he decided that to try this key on the lock was the best course of action. It rotated perfectly. Strange, for a piece of card, wouldn't you agree?

When Edgeworth entered the building, he was quite shocked. The building was almost completely painted in black, with subliminal blue highlights drawing it out. He immediately found the package: It was a briefcase, already unlocked. When he opened it, he saw a large envelope, and on top of it, was a long metal box. Emblazoned along the box, was the words- `Place me on the table in the room to your right. ` Indeed, there was a room to the right- a large room, with a long table, and a seat in the corner. Although he saw no reason why to, he placed the box on the table. Nothing happened. Turning around to collect the envelope in the briefcase, he heard a voice come from behind him.

"Going anywhere, Edgeworth?" The man froze. That is, until he heard that familiar, self-satisfied, laugh that he had heard a few times before. "Sorry Edgeworth – I couldn't really help myself there. Anyways, grab that envelope, and sit down." Immediately, Edgeworth knew that it was likely a recording, so, since arguing wouldn't do much, he did as asked. The moment he sat down, the recording of Joshua that had formed on the wall started talking again:

_Thank you, Edgeworth. Now, yes, this is a recording, I just set this place up to start any recording upon sitting down. It was easier that way. Anyway, I had a look around the case, and I have my solution. So, firstly, I must ask… Are you ready to go back to Germany, Edgeworth? You see, I figured that if you are to protect Wright, the best way to do it would be for him to- discreetly disappear. _

Edgeworth raised his eyebrows at this point. The man had stopped talking, obviously knowing when he'd want to stop and ponder. _Conveniently and discreetly disappear? What is he on about? Faking Wright's death? _Holmes continued.

_Naturally, what I mean by this is him suddenly dropping off the radar for a short time. In that envelope is a letter for Mister Wright, explaining his role in what I'm about to explain. As you are aware, I have just transferred back to Germany. Now, my idea is for me and the pair of you to temporarily change places. You will do your usual act towards Wright, with the obvious exception that this time, he'll know. You'll go and fly as normal and I'll manage to, in a sense, smuggle him on board. All three of us will end up in Germany, and upon settling my affairs, head over there, and do some investigation for you. Naturally, it's your choice. As you can see, there is a button on the playback device. If you think it's a bad idea, press it. If you don't, just walk away. This recording is set to burn upon opening the door. I'm in anticipation of a reply, Edgeworth. _

The recording ended. However strange the idea and its creator were, it was fairly airtight. There was only one choice. The hissing of magnesium burning through metal filled the house…

**Notes: This is what happens later so… err… see ya? And NO, I'm not getting rid of Trucy.**


	8. Part 2: Chapter One

_**Part II:**_

_**Going Dark**_

_Chapter One: A New Challenge_

Finding yourself without a parent is definitely a strange position. The one consistent figure in your entire life suddenly disappearing, and in this case, I'm being quite literal. One Trucy Gramarye. This example was also odd was the fact that the young girl freely accepted her new adoptive father, despite the fact that said father caused the disappearance of her previous one. But, in the end, as we all know, none of this was actually to any detriment. Well, I hope we all know that.

Wright actually made that button by himself, you know. Joshua and Edgeworth had nothing to do with it. Well, rather, he managed to get the camera into a small area. He hadn't quite sorted out the button yet. You see, the thing is, adoption at the time had changed in the preceding years. At the time of the crime surge, there was a net result of orphaned and abandoned children; this, in turn lead to a simplification of the rules for adoption. However it wasn't so much a simplification as much as an abbreviation. Quite simply, it was more a matter of recommendation. Quick, simple, easy.

So adopting Trucy was not difficult. It was the fact of having someone depending on him for slightly longer than four days. There was the whole situation with her magic act, and as Wright had now seen that letter from that random prosecutor, he was in a bit of a predicament.

"I'm sorry… Trucy, I might have to leave for a short while to sort some things out." The young girl looked terrified. "I don't mean to leave you this quickly Trucy- but apparently this is something I have to do… and I'm not even sure why." She, to be frank, looked terrified. He took a while to try and explain to Trucy why, but Trucy would have been impressively competent as an attorney. Every time Wright said something strange, Trucy shot it down instantly.

Until that is, a bell was heard at the front door. Wright immediately begrudgingly walked to answer it. There was nought at the door, except for an envelope. Emblazoned with an- what is that? "It's a Pegasus, Daddy!" Trucy was right behind him?! She had followed him? Well, I suppose it was of no matter now. Who would send Phoenix Wright an envelope with a Pegasus on it? Was it another attempt on his life?

"Trucy, can you wait in the other room for a sec?" She seemed… more than happy to do so- probably to practice her magic tricks again. Wright was naturally nervous. Should he call Edgeworth? No, of course not- he needed to have some independence. Slowly, carefully, methodically, he opened the envelope- Wright sighed. No explosion, no flames, no dart. He slid the contents out of the envelope. First was a note. It was small, only one line:

`Keeping an eye on everything for you. Hope to see both of you soon. J.H.`

J.H? Is that that person Edgeworth was on about? The other thing in the envelope was another red ticket. Most tickets were blue from that airline - there was not even colour differences when it came to class, according to Edgeworth, so... Nonetheless, Phoenix's ticket was red as well. So, it probably didn't matter too much.

Phoenix started running into the other room, beaming from ear to ear. Trucy was a bit scared, to be honest. But she didn't show it. "What happened?" Wright thought she would be majorly scared by him just randomly grabbing her into a bear hug.

"Here Trucy." He handed her the ticket. She looked at the ticket for what seemed like several minutes. Then, she jumped up and hugged him. The father/daughter relationship is one of the most beautiful things. Even in an adoptive scenario such as this.

"Right Trucy- this is what we apparently have to do…"

"It seems a bit strange Daddy… can we really trust this person?"

"I'm sure we can trust him, Trucy. Edgeworth says so, and he is the one going through with this plan." (I mean, no-one that Edgeworth knows and associates with would be a psychopath- Right?)

"Yes, Wright." The ex-attorney's jaw dropped to the floor. So Edgeworth was putting Phoenix's- and his adoptive daughters, in the hands of a psychopath…

"Do you think I should talk to him?" Edgeworth looked surprisingly, for him, understanding. He threw wright the office phone, and punched in a few numbers. Wright held the phone to his ear.

"Greetings… Phoenix Wright." Phoenix had a start. He was expecting this to happen?

"Hello…" His voice was tentative, quiet. He wasn't really expecting him to be so… confident.

However, there was a sigh from the other end of the line. "Sorry, Wright. I hope you are slightly trusting of me. What did Edgeworth say?"

"That you're a psychopath?" A very loud, and quite encouraging laugh came from the phone.

"Really? That's one for the books. Anyways Wright- you can trust me." His voice lowered to a whisper. "Ok. Don't tell Edgeworth or… Trucy, was it? The storage compartment. Nice, safe. And I'm hiding down there as well."

"You'll be down there?" Wright felt strangely encouraged by this. "I suppose… Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, sorry, I have a flight to catch." The dial tone rang out.

"Do you really think he's a psychopath?" Edgeworth smirked. Evidently not.

"You should have no worries Wright. Even if he does something strange, it's just a… warped, sense of humour." That _really_ filled him with confidence. "But apparently he needed to talk to you. So he said that was the way to do it." Wright was slightly bewildered. Yes, he had heard the boy was merely an average prosecutor- but that his long term planning was, indeed flawless. He and Edgeworth nodded at each other. In twelve hours, it would be time to disappear.

_**Notes: Yeah, I know, the storage compartment. Cliché is cliché. Review, etc.**_

_**Thank you.**_


End file.
